Children's Dreams and Fanciful Goals
by Ekardnamal
Summary: BxNear. Pre-LABB case, when B was still at Wammy's. B and Near meet in the library and have a nice little chat about dreams and goals. B's being whimsical, and Near's being antisocial.


**Author's Note:** I'm happy with how this turned out. Written while on vacation, with only _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_, a borrowed computer, and my imagination to keep me company. If you spot the quote from _Alice_, you win.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Death Note, Death Note: Another Note_, or _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland._

**Children's Dreams and Fanciful Goals  
**

Wammy's House library, June 2000. A disgustingly sticky hot day, too reminiscent of the sugar-laden syrup that had accompanied the morning's pancakes. Aptly suited to L's taste, of course, but the vast majority of the residents of Wammy's House definitely did not share his attitude towards sweets. Caffeine was generally preferred over sugar as a choice for an energy-boost. Therefore, nearly limitless kinds of tea and coffee were always available and at-the-ready.

Drinks were allowed in the library. If the children spilled anything on the material, the money to replace it was coming directly out of their allowance (or wages, in the case of the older children). Nonetheless, the sole resident of the library at the time would have none of it. He wasn't worried about marring any ancient pages with tea-stains, since he had no volume in front of him. Only an old puzzle he had found in the toy-room that he had been relieved to find had all its pieces present. One thousand five hundred. He had counted.

At the moment, two hundred and forty-six were successfully in place. In all fairness, the nine-year old hadn't been working for too long on it. This aforesaid child was about to be interrupted by another student exactly twice his age entering the room. Near was the original resident; Backup the intruder. Backup was generally known as B to his closer acquaintances. B hated the connotations of that first alias. If A failed, he was to take his place. A would not fail. The only way he could fail was if he chose to, right?

"Hello, little N."

"…Backup." Near didn't need to turn around yet. B's wasn't a voice that was often heard about the orphanage, but it was memorable for its tone. Fanciful, yet always carrying a slight quality of hesitation. (_Am I doing this correctly? Am I good enough for you, L?)_

B crept over behind Near to study his progress. "Well, you're doing well. I haven't seen you do this one before."

"I haven't. I found this puzzle this morning."

B made a noise of casual approval and looked around. He peered around a larger shelf to check if anyone else was here, perhaps quietly studying. Classes and homework never ended, except for a few days over Christmas. Even when L was visiting, students were expected to keep up with their work.

"Nobody in here? What a pity. Children all playing outside, or cooped up working in their rooms. Sad to see these poor books left here all alone." B glanced back over his shoulder, long black hair half-draping itself over it. "You too, Near. Don't you want to take out something to read?"

This question didn't seem to merit a response right away, at least in Near's opinion. Or it could have been that he wanted to put the three pieces he was holding into their proper locations. _Click, click, click._ "I often do, B. I prefer to read in my room before going to sleep. Conversations in the background can drastically decrease my level of concentration."

"Earplugs, N."

"I would rather not give Mello something else to bother me about, thank you."

B smiled, knowing just how true that was. Mello, Near's capricious and irritating rival. Lover and hater of L all at once. Neither Near nor B could sympathize. L was absolute. L, while not exactly justice, was an admirable goal which they all contested to achieve. B and Near adored him.

"But there's nobody else in here. Why don't you put down that puzzle and pick out something to read? I could check it out for you. The system is easy enough to figure out." The elder browsed the shelves, searching for a suitable story. "_Lord of the Flies?_ _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland?_"

_Click, click. _"No thank you, B."

"Why not? They're good stories. You should let your imagination run free, N. Children should be allowed to dream."

"Normal children should. They should allow themselves to be blind to the truths of the world, you mean." Near's gaze at the pieces of cardboard sharpened, though with B behind him it couldn't be noticed. "Besides. Too much imagination leads to the development of unrealistic dreams. When they are not realised, people become depressed and unable to normally function."

B's plain black slacks came into view out of the corner of Near's vision as he sat down. They didn't quite match the colour of the sweatshirt, which was a slight shade greyer. Like the colour of those sharp pupils, or the shadows under his eyes. Black, always black. B appeared as though he were always in mourning. (_For the dead, or for those about to die?_)

"I think you're wrong, N." B whispered with an edge of spite. "Is it because you don't dream, N? Is it because you think you're above such things? You're only a child. You don't have any experience in the world yet. You have no need for dreams because your existence is positive enough, isn't it."

"Perhaps, B. Perhaps not."

"A dream is why we're all here. To succeed L is a dream. Or a goal, if you like to call it."

_Click._ "You're wrong, B. Not everyone can become L. We are here to better our mental development. This is an educational and competitive environment."

"True, true enough. But what keeps you in the competition? Why bother staying at the top of your class if you don't aspire to one day take L's place?"

Near went back to the puzzle, neither appearing to take B's words into consideration or rejecting them.

"Ah, so I've struck a nerve," B said, although he knew he likely hadn't.

There was no reply. As neutrally as ever, Near continued with his puzzle. He was well aware of B's garnet eyes watching; scrutinizing. Near didn't force himself to look up until after B had spoken next.

"Your hair wants cutting," said B.

"You should learn not to make personal remarks," Near said objectively. "It's very rude."

B laughed, more mockingly than entertained. He was entertained, certainly, but also slightly annoyed that this tiny curly-haired prodigy had caught on so quickly. "Oh, N. So naïve. So _serious_, too." B stood up, stretched out his arms, and strolled over to the exit along with his wily grin.

"It's going to get you killed one day."


End file.
